NO SUBSTITUTIONS
By JIM HARMON
Illustrated by JOHNSON
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine November 1958.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
If it was happening to him, all right, he could
take that ... but what if he was happening to it?
Putting people painlessly to sleep is really a depressing job. Itkeeps me awake at night thinking of all those bodies I have sent tothe vaults, and it interferes to a marked extent with my digestion. Ithought before Councilman Coleman came to see me that there wasn't muchthat could bother me worse.
Coleman came in the morning before I was really ready to face theday. My nerves were fairly well shot from the kind of work I did assuperintendent of Dreamland. I chewed up my pill to calm me down,the one to pep me up, the capsule to strengthen my qualities as arelentless perfectionist. I washed them down with gin and orangejuice and sat back, building up my fortitude to do business over thepolished deck of my desk.
But instead of the usual morning run of hysterical relatives andmasochistic mystics, I had to face one of my superiors from theCommittee itself.
Councilman Coleman was an impressive figure in a tailored black tunic.His olive features were set off by bristling black eyes and a mobilemustache. He probably scared most people, but not me. Authority doesn'tfrighten me any more. I've put to sleep too many megalomaniacs,dictators, and civil servants.
"Warden Walker, I've been following your career with considerableinterest," Coleman said.
"My career hasn't been very long, sir," I said modestly. I didn'tmention that nobody could last that long in my job. At least, nonehad yet.
"I've followed it from the first. I know every step you've made."
I didn't know whether to be flattered or apprehensive. "That's fine," Isaid. It didn't sound right.
"Tell me," Coleman said, crossing his legs, "what do you think ofDreamland in principle?"
"Why, it's the logical step forward in penal servitude. Man has beenheading toward this since he first started civilizing himself. Afterall, some criminals can't be helped psychiatrically. We can't executethem or turn them free; we have to imprison them."
I waited for Coleman's reaction. He merely nodded.
"Of course, it's barbaric to think of a prison as a place ofpunishment," I continued. "A prison is a place to keep a criminal awayfrom society for a specific time so he can't harm that society for thattime. Punishment, rehabilitation, all of it is secondary to that. Thepurpose of confinement is confinement."
The councilman edged forward an inch. "And you really think Dreamlandis the most humane confinement possible?"
"Well," I hedged, "it's the most humane we've found yet. I supposeliving through a—uh—movie with full sensory participation for yearafter year can get boring."
"I should think so," Coleman said emphatically. "Warden, don't yousometimes feel the old system where the prisoners had the diversionsof riots, solitary confinement, television, and jailbreaks may havemade time easier to serve? Do these men ever think they are actuallyliving these vicarious adventures?"
That was a question that made all of us in the Dreamland serviceuneasy. "No, Councilman, they don't. They know they aren't reallyAlexander of Macedonia, Tarzan, Casanova, or Buffalo Bill. They areconscious of